


I See The Future In Your Eyes

by DarkAlpha67



Series: Our Vision [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: "Blood don't make you family", Additional tags will be added, Arguments, Episode: s03e13 Anchors, F/M, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Family Feels, From Human to Coyote, Goes AU after Season 5 with a Stalia ending, Life's chapters, Malia is a Hale, Malia's Journey, Malia's POV, Married Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Mention of Desert Wolf, Mention of Malia's shifting, Mention of Stalia Break Up, No Stydia, OOC Malia Tate, Pregnant Malia Tate, Season 6 did not happen, Sheriff Stilinski and Malia Tate, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Some Alternative Scene, Survivor Guilt, Sweet Ending, Unkind Henry Tate, mention of Peter Hale - Freeform, mention of car accident, stiles is malia's anchor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 09:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12362751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: She remembered everything.The ear piercing screams from her parents. The wet splatters of blood that soaked the side of her face. She remembered the pain in her gut, an indiscernible wash of an ice cold sensation that encased her body as the car’s tires squealed, as her entire world was flipped around.*Teen Wolf through Malia's eyes, from the moment Scott found her, through her time with Stiles and the life she ultimately created for herself with Stiles by her side.





	1. I Found A Love For Me

**Author's Note:**

> Title by Ed Sheeran's Perfect.
> 
> Right, so I've been wanting to do a Stalia centered fic for a while now. I love their relationship, even if many people hate it due to them shipping Sterek or Stydia, which I don't get because no one can deny Stiles and Malia needed each other, regardless of whether they 'belonged' together or not.
> 
> So this is kind of my prequel to the their journey after Season 5

She remembered everything.

The ear piercing screams from her parents. The wet splatters of blood that soaked the side of her face. She remembered the pain in her gut, an indiscernible wash of an ice cold sensation that encased her body as the car’s tires squealed, as her entire world was flipped around.

Her body cracked. She felt her bones stretch, her muscles burn as she changed. Her face was on flames. She tried with all her might to scream, anything to express her pain, anything to call out to the world in hopes that something out there would just make it all stop.

All she heard was a growl being released from her mouth.

And then everything stopped.

Her mind froze. Her body became warm.

She let everything around her collapse, ready to take any relief she could find.

 

*

 

They took it.

Their scents made her nose twitch. Her body was tensed up, an instinctive calling for her to not approach them. She wanted to get away, but they had it.

She needed to get it back.

_Malia…_

The strange sound tugged at something within her. It was as distance voice, a voice she did not know but still, the name kept playing in her head.

Malia. Malia. Malia.

She wanted to get away as far from it as possible. She wanted to disappear, somewhere where this intruder who caused this strange emotion to flare up within her limited mind, could never find her.

So she ran away.

 

*

 

She searched everywhere.

She followed the sweet, calming scent to a strange building where thousands of voices drifted around her. She entered it with great cautious, her ears perked up, alert for anything.

And she found it…She had it pressed right up against her nose. The sweet, baby scent of a distance memory filled her. Her racing heart calmed for a fraction of a second. She clawed at that which stood between her and what she needed.

Suddenly everything came crashing down around her. Her body reacted and she took off, away from the chaos and the hundreds of smells that clogged her mind.

 

*

 

Malia…

Malia…

She shook her head. The strange identity that spoke to her kept repeating over and over as she took in her disturbed world.

Everywhere, the land was disrupted.

With every breath she took, her body twitched, shifting and turning as she sensed danger all around. She heard them too but after so much time hiding and living alone with nothing but that calming smell to keep her company, she knew that she just had to get back to that foreign place that pained her but also helped her.

So she ran. If she took this thing in her mouth back to its home, everything would go back to normal.

She ran and ran.

Then she saw him. The male was back. The one who called her by that name. He was trying to get to it, he was closing in and so she pushed herself further.

Her legs worked, her body burned. She was close, she could feel the tightening in her stomach, a sign she had followed and used for a long time.

She turned the corner with a sharp twist. Red eyes flashed. His power was forced down upon her.

She growled, fighting against her instincts to give in, to submit. She clawed at the ground beneath, her teeth bared threateningly, wanting him to go away.

He opened his mouth and a roar so overpowering bared down on her. Her body lowered at the Alpha’s call, instinctive and submissive. She struggled to remain in control but her heart thundered within her and her knees buckled, bending at his will.

The call to give in became too strong. She dropped down to the floor.

A shift occurred from within her. A shift she hadn’t felt since the night she forgot it all. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream as fear claimed her... Fear at having to go back.

She didn’t want to go back.

_Kylie…_

A sweet voice called her name, “ _Ma-lee-ah._ ”

Her bones cracked. They stretched and turned and shifted into a new form. She felt the warmth that had coated her body vanish as goose bumps erupted cross the length of her naked surface. The earth, the leaves and the soil that once grounded her pricked at her exposed skin.

As the roar died down, silence consumed her world. She gasped for air, feeling the cooling sensation fill her lungs.

Pain washed over her and she turned her head toward him, toward the person who did this to her.

His red eyes bore into her and she squinted, recalling his voice.

 _Malia…_ That was her name.

She heard the faux-scream of her sister. She took in the car wreck behind the Alpha and her stomach churned. Straightening up, her body aching and shivering, memories invaded her once calmed mind. She remembered the haunting pull of her nails and body as she transformed into a monster.

Malia stared down at her now human hands, her eyes burning as she took in its size. She was grown up. She was older…

She turned it over, seeking the blood she knew should be coating it.

_“Malia!”_

_“I wished you were all dead! This so unfair!”_

_“Mom! Kylie!”_

_“MALIA!”_

Her heart tore apart from within. Malia turned, her eyes filling with tears as years and years of suppressed guilt, of burdening grief flooded her.

He brought her back… _Why did he bring her back?_

She took in the world she had called her home. She took in the land she had wondered around, the place that had been her own personal hell, a hell she had unknowingly forced upon herself.

A hell she now knew why she deserved.

 

*

 

The boy, Stiles, drove with her and a man who was his father. She said nothing as she sat, stiff and silent, in the back watching as houses flew past the window as they took her to her own dad’s house.

Dad… She kept repeating that word as the car came to a stop.

She didn’t want to be here but she was paralyzed to do anything she wanted to. She couldn’t speak or move.

She couldn’t shift back. She tried to once, wanting to forget like before but the strain only brought a sharp pain to ignite in her head.

She had taken everything away from him. She had spoken a curse and her wish was granted.

_“I wish you were dead…. I wish you were dead… Dead… Dead…”_

The words kept repeating over and over in her head like a punishing mantra as she waited, looking around the place her father lived. The sheriff knocked and all the while her body felt heavy with guilt.

She smelt him before she heard him, a dulled out scent that had once calmed her down. Her eyes burned, and her heart stuttered in her chest as the door opened.

He was cold, he was lonely. The light in his eyes was gone as he briefly glanced at her before looking away toward the sheriff. Her stomach twisted and turned. She felt sick.

She inhaled sharply, rapidly trying to calm herself down.

_Kylie… Mom…_

She took them away. Tears blurred her vision when his eyes fell on her once more.

“Mr. Tate.” The sheriff spoke. He reached out a hand, strong and guiding, placing it on her arm to draw her into her father’s sight.

Sky blue eyes fell on her once more. Her lungs tightened. She gasped as she waited, watching with pained eyes as his lips moved and quivered in shock.

A part of her hoped he would not recognize her. She was older, he might not remember her.

And then his voice, deep and shaky, said, “Malia?”

Hearing him say her name, love breaking through the surprised voice, she broke. Her lips moved, tugging into a smile and she nodded in confirmation.

A sob tore through her dad and she found herself being pulled in. Malia went willingly, her soul yearning for her father’s comforting and safe hold. She felt his grip on her tighten. Her hands reached up, wanting to hold onto him, wanting to fist his shirt and never let go.

But she remember the blood that had strained her fingers. She didn’t want to touch him but she needed to. With her mom and sister’s face haunting her thoughts she cried out to them, leaning in, closing and squeezing her eyes shut.

She allowed her body to react, to do that which she had oppressed it from doing all those years ago. Wet, hot tears rolled down her cheeks as she thought of those who should have been here, instead of her.

The people whom loved her, the people who cared for her.

The family she had killed by being the monster she truly was.

 

*

 

Stiles awoke something in her.

After months of hiding away, of locking herself inside a place where her human self could do what her coyote had achieved.

Take her away from the life she had stolen from her family.

As she felt his body against hers, replacing the fur she had longed to wrap around her, something sparked deep inside her. He was sweet with her, attentive to a point where the horrid feeling that had shaped her, that had blackened her heart and mind, had faded away.

She forget for that short moment.

She was warm to the bone. No longer did the empty feeling that consumed her control her life and her emotions. It was shoved away as something new and amazing grew deep inside her, a link that made her feel human, that made her feel like Malia once again.

Stiles held onto her after they got dressed, his thumb stroking yet calming the growing fire in her heart. They shared something, an understanding that she had longed to feel since the day she left the confining body of the coyote.

“Just let her go! _Please!”_

His voice was a sweet call and even as the gravity of the situation bore down on them, she tried to fight for him, tried to stay awake to keep him safe.

She had to keep him safe…

Stiles…

 

*

 

“Dad.” Stiles called to the sheriff, trying to get his attention. “You remember Malia, right?”

Kind blue eyes that reminded her of her father looked up and when they fell on her, they widened in shock. The Sheriff stood up from his desk and made his way over to them.

Stiles had a comforting hand on her back, holding her steady, calming her nerves as she waited with bated breath as Stiles’ father assessed her with question swimming in his eyes.

“Hi, Malia. It’s good to see you.” Sheriff Stilinski said kindly. “How have you been? How’s your dad?”

Malia gave him a stiff nod, glancing swiftly at Stiles, meeting his encouraging smile before she answered the sheriff. “He’s good.”

The sheriff paused, his eyebrows raised up and when the silenced continued to drag on, Stiles’ loud and expressive voice was the one that broke it.

“Right! Awesome. So… uh, dad, I kinda came here to tell you that Malia’s coming over to our house. I’m gonna help her with school and stuff like that.”

Curious blue eyes flickered back and forth, lingering on Stiles’ arm that vanished behind her. He looked from his son to the coyote before giving a nod.

“Sure. I’ll bring home something.”

“Ha! Nice try. I’m still making dinner. We’re gonna have an extra mouth to feed anyway.”

At the mention of food, Malia’s head perked up and snapped over to Stiles. Wild brown eyes met his and she gave him a smirk as she asked. “Are you making deer?”

An incredulous frown formed on Stiles’ face. “What? No! Just some lasagna and veggies.”

Her mouth twisted in disgust. “Why? That’s gross.”

She heard the sheriff snort before them. Stiles shot him a look as he turned her around and ushered her out of the office. “Malia, we talked about this… See ya’, Dad!”

She tossed a smile over her shoulder to the sheriff before saying to Stiles. “Why are you eating vegetables? Is that a human thing?”

“Oh dear God…”

“What?”

 

*

 

Malia found herself in Stiles Stilinski.

She learned whom she was with his constant, reassuring presence. He held her when she just craved the heat of another, when her human skin became to bare for her liking. He spoke to her, explained things to her with great patience.

She learned to breathe again. To live the life she had been granted, to journey through her day’s and soon, she had people she could turn to. She found a family, a bond that she had lost with her father, in the McCall pack and with the Stilinski’s.

Both welcomed her with open hearts and beckoning arms. The sheriff treated her like a daughter and not a survivor of a fatal act. He made her smile with his jabbing jokes. She laughed with Stiles and John, a light glowing inside her as Malia felt the love between the two, basking in it as it was shone down upon her with their including smiles.

She went through High School with a strong pack to guide her.

She turned to Lydia when she needed help with something. She was there to question the Banshee when it was revealed that Peter Hale was her father and with the remembrance of the kindness they had showed her, she listened as Lydia explained to her with a bitter expression just what a cruel man Peter was. She was there to listen when Stiles told her about Allison and the blame he feels by her death.

“It’s my fault…”

“No, it’s not.”

She graduated with great difficulty, struggling through irritating subjects like math, and physics. It was a constant battle with life both as a human and a shifter.

Things weren’t easy. Not as if she had expected it to be.

They had to fight. They had bled and cried.

She had her whole world turned upside down when it was brought to light that her biological mother had been the fingers behind the trigger that had ended the lives of her family.

She had gone through a dark tunnel, with no end in sight as the need for revenge consumed her and the secrets between her and Stiles had ultimately been the sharp shard that had broken their relationship. She was blood thirsty, burning from within with the desire to avenge Kylie and her mom.

In the end, as her claws impaled the woman who had birthed her, Malia had felt the surge of power, a spark of electricity that coursed from the tips of her fingers through her entire being, illuminating her eyes to a brighter brilliant blue.

When all was said and done… Stiles was there.

Her anchor was there for her.

He took her back to his home, ushered her into the bathroom and cleaned her hands with gently strokes. Her body shook, her fingers vibrating from the power she had running through her and the pain in the acknowledgement that she had taken the life of her biological mother.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I got you.” His voice kept saying.

It was a soft melodic tune that fought against the ache threatening to consume her. She felt the burning salty tears wet her face, slithering down the side and Malia found herself turning toward him.

She fell into his heat. Strong, centered arms wrapped around her, like a blanket of solace.

“I’ve got you, Malia.”

And he never let go of her and the were-coyote’s grip on him never ceased.

 

*

 

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes.”


	2. Piece by Piece (I Realized My Worth)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! This story was hugely inspired by two amazing songs:
> 
> 1) Good Enough- Little Mix
> 
> 2) Piece by Piece- Kelly Clarkson

Being married was not easy but the same could be said about her life.

Malia had learned the true meaning of what ‘having someone to lean on’ meant. She had made the difficult decision once she and Stiles had graduated High School to tell her father the truth.

Stiles had been there, sitting right outside in the Jeep as he had promised he’d be when she came out an hour later, tears silently running down her cheeks. She had gotten in, spoke in a harsh, broken voice, telling him to go.

Stiles held her tighter than ever that night as she soundlessly cried into his chest, letting go of the need to remain strong, giving in to the crippling heartache at having her father reject her. Stiles had stroked her hair, held her face gently against his neck, cocooning her in his scent.

She had given up that side of as she cried the last of her tears. She remained a Tate, in honor of the woman who took her in, who loved her by choice and in honor of the sister whose love and voice she carried with her in the form of a tiny K tattoo, burned into the side her wrist.

When Malia became Malia Tate-Stilinski, she felt whole, complete even and sure of the life she had led. She accepted the road, the perdition she endured, for she knew it had been a path that would have end with Stiles.

“I love you.” He had whispered one night as they laid comfortably on his bed. His thick blankets were pooled around their waist and all there was were them. Two bodies at peace in the other’s arm. “You know that, right?”

She was flat on her stomach, her back bare, her arm stretched out and curled around him with her fingers lazily threaded through his thick strands as he laid relaxed on his side, his arm tossed over her waist, fingers dancing over the length and curvature of her spine, faces inches apart.

With each breath he took, the gush of heated air tickles her bare shoulders.

Malia lifted her head where it was rested against his forehead and leaned back just a bit. Her hand traveled to his cheek, her thumb stroking his flushed flesh softly.

“I know, Stiles.”

Thin lips tugged into a lopsided grin.

He paused as his eyes traced over her features, slowly, as if he was taking her in for the first time. Malia never shied away from Stiles gaze, when it was filled with a primal hunger, or incomprehension love, because each stare always made her heartbeat spike and caused her chest to get all warm.

“Will you marry me?”

At his simple question, her body suddenly burst to life. Malia felt the tears filling her eyes without warning, unashamed as they trickled down her cheeks. Stiles stared back at her with wide, anticipation stricken eyes.

A grin broke out on Malia’s face. A breath of relief washed over her face as she leaned forward, dragging her naked form over Stiles’, their skin burning at the touch as she leaned down to kiss him with all the love and passion her body held.

Stiles groaned against her mouth, his hand splaying across her back, his fingers tangling themselves through her messy hair. She nipped at his lip playfully, pulling it between her teeth, feeling Stiles’ stomach bob against hers as he laughed. She pulled away when kissing became impossible, beaming down at Stiles.

“Yes.” She said to him.

Stiles’ mouth split into an open mouth grin. Strong hands cupped her jaw and she gladly got pulled down once more.

 

*

 

Before Stiles, during Stiles and even after Stiles, Malia had always considered herself broken.

Darkened by the knowledge that her true nature had been the demise of her loved ones, damaged by the truth that both her parents were killers who had no remorse for the lives they took and devastated by her father’s choosing to cut ties with her.

Which was why, when she and Stiles had their first real marital argument, Malia had finally realized how truly _whole_ she was.

The door to their home was slammed open, and a fuming Stiles stalked through to their kitchen, hurriedly grabbing a glass of water, before drowning it one go. His heart thundered in her ears. His scent was erratic, a confusing blend of anger, worry, fear and joy.

She stood behind him, her body already healed with only the remnants of blood on her shorts and jacket. She grimaced at the horrid smell, wanting to get out of her dirty clothes but she refused to leave Stiles alone.

“Stiles.” She spoke his name with great caution.

His shoulders tensed up. She saw his hands curl in, the tips of his fingers digging into the hard surface of their kitchen counter. “Malia… not now.”

Her heart tightened at the cold, rough-edged voice. It’s a voice she had never heard being addressed to her. He was holding on to whatever strength he had left and had this been any other day, she would let him be. She would have given him his space, given him time to gather his thoughts, to allow the heated anger she could feel radiating from his shaking form to simmer down.

“Stiles, I don’t understand why you are angry? We won! We should be happy that our family is safe—“

Stiles spun around, his eyes blazing with unrestrained fury. “ _Are you kidding me?!_ WHAT ABOUT TODAY IS THERE TO BE HAPPY? That fact that you got out alive?! You shouldn’t have been there to begin with!”

Her body jumped at the exploding volume of his voice.

“I asked you to stay out of it! You are pregnant, Malia! You are carrying our child and your first course of action was to run head first into a battle with hunters!”

“I was safe, Stiles!” She shouted back, her own anger building with each accusation Stiles flung her way. “I knew what I was doing. I just knocked him out. All of them were already taken care of. There was no danger!”

“You didn’t know that! You went against your promise to me! Do you know how terrified I was when I heard that shot? All I saw was the blood on your clothes!”

Her eyes flashed. “That was Argent’s shot.” She growled out. Her hand instinctively moving over her flat stomach. “And as I said, I was safe. I knew what I was walking into, Stiles.”

He exhaled a harsh breath, his once warm whiskey eyes now swirling with a temper. They flickered back and forth, locking with each of hers. They were glistering, a film of tears coating them the way it always did when Stiles was going through a difficult time where he had no control over a situation.

Since joining the FBI, he had gotten the hang of controlling his facial features but it was during time of great stress that that well practiced mask broke, revealing the boy she fell in love with.

With a calming breath, she stepped forward. Malia reached up, thankful that her hands were clean as she cupped his flushed cheeks.

“I will never put our baby in harm’s way, Stiles. He or she means the world to me and I will fight with everything in me before I let anything happen to them. You have to know that.”

He held their weighted stare before his eyelids fluttered shut. Hands wrapped around her waist, thumbs stroking over the flat planes of her stomach as he leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together.

Malia continued her soft, calming strokes against Stiles’ cheek until his racing heart which echoed in her ears slowed to its regular beat.

She understood where Stiles was coming from. She had experience this exactly fear and had been consumed by it the moment it was discovered that she was pregnant.

She remembered The Desert Wolf’s words to her: … _You know what it really felt like? A parasite._

All her life she had felt out of place, a missing piece that no one seemed to want. But now that she had a family of her own, now that she knew what truly caring for another innocent, defenseless soul meant, she could never phantom the hatred her biological mother had for her.

It had been only a week since she found out about her little miracle and she already felt so protective of her little baby. The little life growing inside of her was a part of her and Stiles and she knew that when the day came for her to pass down a bit of her powers, she would glad relinquish it.

She was a mother now. She was a wife.

 

*

 

Her life was perfect in her opinion.

Her days were spend at home as she got closer to her term. Malia spend her time talking to her baby and whenever she felt that tiny little kick inside her belly, her eyes would starting burning and soon she’d be crying, tears of joy… and tears of sadness.

Recently, she had felt this longing to reconnect with her father, and to get in touch with Derek of all people. She had talked to Stiles about it and he’d told her with a small smile that he was sure Derek would be happy to hear from her.

Derek… Not her dad.

She had thought after all these years that she had let him go. She had thought she’d left the past finally behind where it belonged but as her love for her baby grew with every passing day, she found herself wondering how parents could hate their child.

How could her parents despise her?

Someone who chose to love her and someone who had given birth to her?

So, on a heated day, with the sun burning down on the earth, she made the decision to head back to Beacon Hills. Her stomach was blown, pressing a little against the steering wheel.

She felt queasy with her heart racing a mile a minute. Malia drove all the way, stopping only to empty her bladder and pulling over to the side of the road to answer Stiles’ call which was every half hour.

It was the same questions, him urging her to let him if know she was safe, listening to him apologize for not being with her to offer his support (and his gun).

At the end of every call, she had a smile on her face, his worrying voice easing the growing knot in the pit of her stomach just a bit.

Malia pulled up to the old house and the ease Stiles had brought within her evaporated instantaneously. Her hold home looked more run down than ever.

Her boots crunched the ground beneath her as she walked the steps.

The were-coyote stared at the place she had returned in the hopes of calling it her new home the day Scott had turned her back and the home she had been forced to leave when her father rejected her for whom she was.

She heard him shuffling inside and with a dreaded weight in her chest, she lifted her hand and knocked.

Her baby kicked, her little boy, and she eased his agitation by rubbing slow, soothing circles over her belly.

Malia waited as her father’s body came into view. His tall silhouette darkened the screen by the door. She took a step back as it opened for her.

Cold blue eyes locked with hers, before they dropped to her stomach. She smelt the sour scent wash off him, and she curled her arms around her stomach protectively. His nostrils flared and cautious, unfamiliar eyes met hers.

“What do you want?”

The harsh question felt like a punch to her heart and as much as she watched to turn around, to walk away, Malia knew she needed to do this, to finished this and close this chapter in her story once and for all.

“I wanted to talk to you—“

“I don’t want to talk you.” He cut her off sharply, his tone biting. “What I want is for you to leave. Now.”

Just as his words broke the heart of the little girl she once was, Malia felt a tiny nudge against her stomach. She glanced down at her hand that was sprawled over it, her eyes landing on her beautiful silver ring.

“Okay.” She said, looking up to the man she had once called ‘dad’. Her once glimmering eyes were now clear for she had no tears to spill, not on this. “Thank you for that.”

“For _what_?” Henry Tate growled out and she smelt the strong stench of alcohol on his breath.

“For showing me that I have everything I could ever need. And for showing me that you are not the father I thought you were.”

As she walked away, her mind was clearer than ever. She felt a strange sensation of peace filling her and she knew, _finally_ , she had let go of the shackles that had been unknowingly holding her back.

As she got in her car, Malia smiled down at her stomach, her baby’s heart beat a calming staccato as she pulled out of the drive away.

Her mind flashed to Stiles.

She thought his hands on her belly every morning, his rough, sleep riddled voice waking her up as he whispered to their son.

_“Hey, buddy. It’s your daddy.”_

When Malia got home, Stiles was up and about, cooking dinner in his work clothes. He spun around when he heard their front door opening, squawking in surprise when she threw her arms around him, a grin blossoming on her face.

His arms wrapped around her torso without missing a beat, his head burying itself into her neck to press a soft kiss against her exposed skin.

“Thank you.” She whispered to him, her fingers gripping onto his strands. “Thank you _so_ much.”

Stiles sighed, tightening his arms around her. “Oh, baby.” He whispered soothingly.

Malia shook her head. She wasn’t upset. She wasn’t hurt because like she had told him: she was thankful for that awful conversation. It helped her see what she see already knew.

It helped her see that her baby would not end up like her.

He was loved beyond measure. He had a dad and a mom that would give the world for him without asking for anything in return. He will be happy because she will ensure it.

And that was all thanks to Stiles. The man who showed her what true, unconditional love was, who showed her that a good man, a _good father,_ would be there every step of the way, and would never take their son or her for granted.

 

*

 

“You two got a name?” Melissa asked as she smiled down at the cooing baby boy in her arms.

Malia and Stiles smiled at one another before answering. “Malachai.” Stiles answers. “His name is Kai Scott Stilinski.”

“Dude.” Scott McCall croaked beside Stiles, the two parents sitting on the hospital bed, both exhausted with Malia hair matted with sweat and Stiles’ hand in a cast.

Liam looked all too eager with a mark curled behind his ear.

She laughed lightly as Scott leaned forward to wrap his arms around them both, his scent a sweet fragrance of pure love and joy.

“Oh, look!” John exclaimed with wonder warming his voice. “His eyes are blue. Look.”

A soft kiss was pressed against her temple as Malia watched the people she called her family all gush over her baby boy. Lydia and Kira were both trying to get a good look at him before a strong voice cut them off, asking if he could hold Kai next.

“Yeah, of course.” Malia nodded to Derek.

Family wasn’t determined by blood. It was by the choice one made to love someone for who they were, to accept them without thought and to welcome them with open hearts.

The Stilinski’s were her family.

And they had proven that to her by building her up.

 Day by day. Piece by piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I named the baby Malachai because I kinda liked the "M" thing of the family. You know Mieczyslaw, Malia, Malachai... and I decided on that name cause that's my baby nephew's name.
> 
> If there are any mistakes, I am so sorry. 
> 
> I have read over it and if there are any mistakes please let me know. Be kind, spread love and not hate.
> 
> Love Y'all and thanks for reading.
> 
> In need of a beta... anyone know how I can get one???

**Author's Note:**

> I have no watched Teen Wolf after season 3, so if there are any detailed mistakes I am sorry. I tried to use YouTube video's for most scene, but I am not sure of the order in which things occurred.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, next chapter will be out soon.


End file.
